Sometimes a blog is meant to be heard. I don't have the technology to do that. So I pray that something in this will make sense. It is 10:30 p.m. I arrived home from our women's bible study about 30 minutes ago. Checking email, grabbing a snack - and then you hear it. The men's group in our basement that meets at our house every other Tuesday. Singing. Singing praises to God. This week there is even a guitar.
If you had told my husband that someday he would be singing worship songs in his basement with a group of other God-seeking, God-fearing men after they had spent time in prayer - well, up until the last few years, he probably would have just hit you for suggesting such a thing. Not that he's violent, he would have just thought you had lost it and needed some sense knocked into you.
Malachi 3:10 tells us to "Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this," says the LORD Almighty, "and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it." I used to think that those blessings were financial and material. I know better. Sometimes the floodgates open with a group of singing men in your basement.